


The Beast

by Mendax



Series: Steampunk!Seven [4]
Category: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-22
Updated: 2012-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-31 13:54:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mendax/pseuds/Mendax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vin knows better, but when has that stopped any of them before?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beast

  


The church seemed empty, but with all the pipes and tubing, and the hiss and rumble of steam covering up sound, even a feller the size of Josiah could be hidden in a cranny somewhere.

“Josiah?” Vin called.

He was answered by a muffled, clanking rattle from behind the altar. Josiah was down the hole, the underground at back of the church he called “the belly of the beast.” Vin grimaced and made his way to the trap door and down.

Josiah stood in a bleak pool of light at the crank, the massive chain and weight the source of the clanking Vin had heard from upstairs. He wore an undershirt stained with yesterday’s grime and today’s fresh sweat, and the muscles of his arms and back bunched and strained as he worked at the crank.

Vin waited until Josiah had the weight up and the drag set, the slow descent triggering a cascade of intricate gears that ran the massive bellows that made “the beast” seem like it was breathing, the rush of air in and the hiss out. Never failed to make the hair at the back of his neck stand up.

“Josiah!” Vin didn’t like talkin’ so loud, but it was hard to make yourself heard down here, and Josiah tended to be off in his own head so deep sometimes it took a lot of ruckus to pull him out.

Josiah turned toward him with a distracted frown wrinkling his forehead where his thick goggles were perched and wiped his grimy hands uselessly on the front of his leather apron. Apron, goggles, and ... yep, there were his gauntlets sticking out of one of the apron’s many large pockets. Looked like a good day t’be somewhere else.

“What can I do for you?” Funny how Josiah never seemed to need to shout to make himself heard.

“Package for ya.”

Vin was itchin’ to get back out into the air, but Josiah had just gone thoughtful-lookin’ and silent, which might mean he’d heard but might not, and Mr. Wilson was awful tetchy ‘bout holding Josiah’s packages any longer than he had to. Not that Vin blamed him any, for all the limp was hardly noticeable anymore. Vin fidgeted a little, and when his eyes slid to the side they caught a dull gleam from the corner in an intriguing shape. He edged his way a little closer.

Well now. That sure was pretty. Gun like that for certain wasn’t for playin’ nice. Made his own cut-down look like a child’s toy. All dark steel it was, with gleaming and intricate bits of brass. Large bore and sleek, and looked like you could shoot right through the skull of a charging bull buffalo.

Josiah didn’t always react too good to bein’ busted away from a thought, but it wasn’t like Vin was going to spend his day down here waiting, neither. “What’s this?” he asked.

“What’s it look like?”

Impossible to tell from that distracted rumble whether Josiah was bein’ sarcastic or just didn’t want to bother looking over to see what Vin was askin’ about. “Looks like a gun,” he said, just in case.

“Oh, that,” Josiah said. And he sure didn’t sound distracted anymore. He sounded mysterious and pleased in a way that made Vin want to head right back outside. Josiah smiled at him darkly. “That ain’t been tested yet.”

With that he turned and headed up, maybe to fetch his package if Vin was lucky. Vin took another long look at the rifle, at its smooth heft and deadly beauty. Tested? What was it supposed to do? He glanced up in the direction Josiah had disappeared. Chewed on his lower lip.

“Ah, hell,” he said, and reached for the gun.


End file.
